


Big Brother

by nightmarefuckboy



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Don't Like Don't Read, Incest Kink, Incest Play, Langa fucks Miya into oblivion, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and that's honestly what Miya wants, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29005158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarefuckboy/pseuds/nightmarefuckboy
Summary: Miya calls Langa big brother. If you read the tags, you know what happens from there.
Relationships: Chinen Miya/Hasegawa Langa, Hasegawa Langa/Chinen Miya
Comments: 16
Kudos: 92





	Big Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelcult](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/gifts).



Langa doesn’t think anything of it the first time. Sure, it’s a little weird Miya called him his “older brother” while also not showing him any respect whatsoever, but Langa’s decided that Miya is a weird kid. He wears these clip-on cat ears beneath his school hat and chews on the tail of his sweatshirt when he’s nervous. You know, cringy middle schooler stuff. 

And even though it clearly was meant as an insult the first time, Miya keeps calling Langa his “big brother.” Every greeting it’s “You still suck, Onii-san?” and every farewell it’s “Smell ya later Onii-san.” The nickname gets peppered into conversation effortlessly and Langa counts all the times he’s used it. There was one time when Miya was talking to Joe about their last race that he said “Onii-san” at least twelve times. 

Twelve. 

Miya, like Langa, is an only child. Langa remembers a time when he actually wanted a sibling. He’d beg his mother and father for a little brother to go snowboarding with, but it just never happened. So Langa, initially, chalks Miya’s nickname up to this sort of only child syndrome. The constant yearning for someone to look after, a kinship that is so close no one can possibly understand the bond. 

Langa knows Miya is also a pretty lonely kid. 

He’s never seen Miya hang out with anyone his age, nor has he actually seen anyone other than himself and Reki try to approach him to strike up a conversation. It makes complete sense why Miya would bestow the nickname onto him, why he seems to crave saying it any chance he gets. But that’s the thing, only he has the nickname. Miya could just as easily also call Reki big brother, but he chooses not to—instead opting for “dumbass.” 

Why is Langa the _only_ big brother? 

That afternoon, when Miya shows up to the shop for his daily visit on his way home from school, Langa gets his answer. 

The bell to the shop snaps Langa out of his daze, doodling “big brother” in bubble letters on a notepad next to the cash register. 

“Dumbaaaaass! Onii-saaaan!!” Miya calls out and shuts the door behind him. He skips over to the register counter and hops up onto it just as Langa quickly turns over the notepad. 

“You know you’re not supposed to sit there,” Langa says. 

Miya shrugs and crosses his legs. “Has that ever stopped me?” 

It hasn’t. 

“Where’s the Dumbass? Is he in the back?” Miya looks around himself, probably searching for any sign of Reki’s red hair. 

“He’s making a delivery, he should be back in an hour.” 

A small grin spreads across Miya’s face. “So we’re alone?” 

“Yeah, sorry I’m not as easy to pick on as Reki.” 

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m actually kinda glad we’re alone,” Miya admits, uncrossing his legs.

An uneasy feeling settles in Langa’s stomach. Where there’s Miya, there’s trouble. And the way that Miya is looking at him right now—through his thick black eyelashes and keeping hard eye contact—reeks of it. 

“Really?” Langa crosses his arms defensively. 

“Yeah, it’s practically impossible to be alone with you, since Dumbass doesn’t seem to leave your side.” 

“Well we are friends.” 

“Are we not friends too, Onii-san?” Miya tilts his head to the side and smirks, punctuating every syllable of Langa’s nickname. 

“Do you call all your friends “Big brother?” he dares to ask. If Miya is going to turn this into a game, Langa wants to make sure he doesn’t let the little brat have the upper hand.

Miya’s body goes rigid. He stares at Langa with wide, emerald green eyes and raised eyebrows. He’s caught in the question, clearly reevaluating his course of action as his lips part and breath hitches. Langa keeps his face neutral, not wanting to give anything away. He can’t let Miya know how much the anticipation makes his heart pound in his chest. 

Just as quickly as Miya was caught off guard, he slinks back into his typical posture—leaning back with his hands behind him on the counter for support with his chest puffed up and legs spreading wide. His slight close-lipped smile spreads from ear to ear and his eyes twinkle with mischief. “No, I don’t. Just you,” he murmurs like he’s been caught doing something very bad.

Even though that’s the answer Langa expects, it doesn’t terrify him any less. He needs to know more so he asks “Why?” 

Miya scoots to the edge of the counter and drapes his thin legs around Langa’s torso, pulling him in close— _far too close._ “Do you really want to know the reason?” 

Langa swallows, hoping any moisture in his mouth will clear his far too dry throat. He nods—he’s in far too deep now.

“I always wanted an older brother figure, someone to _play_ with, you know?” Miya says and clenches his thighs around Langa, urging their groins to touch. And oh does Langa, eyes wide and blood racing, immediately understand the implications of this. 

“You want to _play_ with me that badly?” he asks, trying his best to keep his composure despite the heat that rises within him. He can feel his cheeks prickle, probably turning a healthy shade of red despite himself, and hear his heart pound in his ears.

Miya nods with an evil little smirk. “I want to _play_ with you so bad, Onii-san,” he sighs and arches his back, rocking his hips forward.

-0- 

All the smugness that Miya tends to put on washes away as soon as Langa’s hands caress his lithe torso. Like an off switch for his bitch mode—he becomes a shivering, whimpering mess. His pale skin is soft beneath Langa’s fingertips and easy to bruise. Even the slightest press leaves a trail of red that blooms and stays. Langa makes sure to cover his _little brother_ with the prettiest of shades, putting some extra care into turning his puffy, pink nipples scarlet with his teeth. 

“ _Onii-san!”_ Miya cries out as Langa laps and sucks one of his abused nubs while his fingers twist the other until it becomes deliciously firm. 

“You like that?” Langa murmurs against flushed skin.

“Mhm,” Miya whines and brings his hands to card through Langa’s hair, encouraging him with little cat scratches and gentle tugs to the root. The tugs quickly turn into pulls, guiding Langa’s face up to his. Their kiss is searing, open mouthed and tongues exploring. Miya wraps his arms around Langa’s neck and hugs him close, giving Langa no way to come up for air. He sucks and bites Langa’s lower lip, mewling like the shitty kitty that he is. 

The acute pain makes Langa force himself away, pushing on Miya’s chest so he can gulp down oxygen. He can already taste iron in his mouth. 

“What do you want now?” Langa says, chest heaving, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand—ignoring the streak of blood that paints his skin. 

Sprawled out beneath him, Miya’s naked body shudders. His eyes are hazy and his mouth hangs open with drool rolling from the corners and down the column of his neck. It matches the beats of precum that dribble from his cherry red tip, bouncing and so clearly aching to be touched. “I want you to fuck me, _Onii-san_ ,” Miya growls—a rumble that isn’t too deep, but definitely having the desired effect on Langa’s body—and bears his teeth. 

A bad, little kitten. 

Langa isn’t ready to give Miya what he wants. Not yet—the brat needs to learn some patience. So he kisses Miya’s lips sweetly, just a chaste peck and drag of his tongue, and moves lower to his neck, his chest, his abdomen. He delves his tongue into Miya’s belly button and revels at how Miya’s body spasms and voice climbs. Langa’s hands spread Miya’s thighs open, massaging the baby muscles he’s gained from years of training. A skateboarder’s thigh muscles often go underappreciated and Langa wants to make sure his little brother gets all the attention he’s been missing out on.

“ _Onii-sa-ahn!_...” Miya hiccups a sob as Langa kisses lower—nuzzling his nose into barely there wiry, black hair while his thumbs press small, tender circles into the inside of Miya’s thigh. Langa can feel Miya rutting his neglected dick into the curve of his neck, desperate for friction. It slides against his skin, sticky with precum and sweat, and adds enough pressure against his Adam’s apple to send a thrill down his spine. 

Langa withdraws. “I’m not gonna fuck you until you say the magic word, _Ototo-san,”_ he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the little kitten that gasps for air beneath him. 

“ _Please, Onii-san!”_ Miya begs pathetically and breathless. Langa almost can’t believe this is the boy who practically coerced him into sex. The confident leer he usually wears is completely gone, washed away and replaced by crocodile tears and a quivering lip. 

Langa thinks he prefers this version of Miya much more. 

“Alright,” Langa says and kisses Miya (who eagerly captures his lips and melts into it like how icicles sweat in the sunlight). He takes his time making sure Miya is nice and open, using his tongue and thumbs to stretch Miya’s tight rim and tease his taint. Miya clenches the arm of the couch as Langa works him from behind, moaning how good it feels and how badly he wants Langa’s thick cock inside him. It’s commendable how Miya struggles to delay his release. It must be so hard for him to keep himself from letting go before getting railed. 

And honestly, Langa’s glad to see him struggle. 

Langa does everything he can to make Miya’s voice break and body betray him. His tongue pushes in deep, lapping at Miya’s soft walls and coaxing pre-mature sputters out of Miya’s dangling, sobbing cock. With each pump he kneads Miya’s balls with his other hand—practically milking the boy. Langa doesn’t bother fingering Miya, he knows his little brother is going to enjoy the stretch even more if he’s just a little underprepared. 

Sure enough, as Langa sinks into Miya’s heat, the kitten yowls—wet and fucked to all hell. Each centimeter he gives, Miya pleads for more. Like he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get it just the way he wants it. When Langa reaches the hilt, he leans over and covers Miya’s mouth with his head. 

“Don’t make a sound,” Langa whispers into Miya’s ear. He feels Miya’s breath catch, the back of his rib cage expanding ever so slightly against Langa’s sweat stained torso. Miya utters a tiny, barely noticeable whimper. A final plea before Langa ruts into him, breeding his little brother while jerking him off and overstimulating him to high hell. With each thrust, Miya’s coked off groans waver—high to low to high as Langa prods his cock deep into the tight space of Miya’s hole. It mixes with the sound of Langa’s hips snapping against Miya’s asscheeks. A piercing, slick noise that will surely haunt Langa’s dreams. 

There is no sensitivity, no gentleness. Only this animalistic fuck that Miya brought upon himself. Maybe next time Langa will be more gentle, but for now he needs to teach his baby brother a lesson. He needs Miya to remember this feeling, being stuffed and filled to the brim. This is what happens when you demand to get fucked.

When Miya cums (keening into Langa’s hand that covers his mouth with his eyes screwed shut), he coats Langa’s fist with sticky, milky white seed. And of course, Langa makes Miya lick his fingers clean while he continues to relentlessly thrust into him. 

He’s close, so unbelievably close. 

Langa pulls Miya back by the hips, jackhammering him into his cock for good measure, and releases the coil that’s built up in his abdomen with a drawn out groan. Miya’s limp body takes his cum so easily, _greedily._ Like he’s meant to be his big brother’s cum dumpster. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know I just gifted angelcult but... they made a tweet about this and I dead ass could not stop thinking about it.


End file.
